


Anyway the Wind Blows

by BeezandBitches



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema needs therapy so bad, Angst, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Raising the dead to yell at them, emotional breakdown, imposter syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeezandBitches/pseuds/BeezandBitches
Summary: Anathema Device was born to save the world. She would grow to carry the world on her shoulders. She would be praised by her family as Agnes' chosen great-six-times-over grandchild. When it was all over, after the Apocalypse-that-never-was, Anathema came to the crushing realization that she didn't know who she was.Therapy's expensive, yelling at your dead ancestors' thanks to magic is free.
Relationships: Anathema Device & Agnes Nutter, Crowley & Anathema Device
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Anyway the Wind Blows

**Author's Note:**

> I really do love making Anathema question her whole identity and self because the show raised quite a few questions about how her family viewed Agnes and her prophecies.
> 
> I hope y'all are doing well. And if you enjoyed this, leave some love down below.
> 
> Follow me @BeezandBitches on Tumblr for more Good Omens content
> 
> Have a lovely day!

Anathema Device would be described by everyone she knew as a clever woman. In one way or another, she was the brightest person most people would meet. She was well renowned for many things, but mostly she was an excellent witch. Witchcraft had been a family trade for generations, after all she was a descendant of a real tried-and-true witch. 

Agnes Nutter, prophetess.

Her book had been sought after by many for decades. Some believed all her predictions were mere coincidences, some took it as gospel. Anathema’s family had been able to see the truth in her words first hand, which led to the following generations of them turning to the book, trying to decipher the prophecies in preparation for the on coming Apocalypse.

Anathema’s mother had told her from a young age she was destined for greatness. 

“Anathema Jane Nutter-Device,” she would tell her eight year old daughter, just before kissing her forehead at bedtime. “You are going to save the world.” 

And there was a time when Anathema had been extremely proud of this. Her whole family had been. She was _the_ Anathema. There was no two-ways about it, Agnes had spoken her name directly, talking about how she would be there at the end. How she would one day help prevent the war to end all wars. 

And so, from the very day she was born, her mother tried to prepare her. She had to be ready for the challenges that would come to her. Anathema was taught several languages- some living, some dead- survival skills, basic combat, and of course magic. 

Magic was Anathema’s favorite thing in the whole world. She excelled in it. It made her feel closer to nature, to the universe, to Agnes.. 

She wondered sometimes if Agnes would be proud of her. In a way, Anathema was her shadow. She followed her legacy, just as the others in her family had, but she had a real role to play. Front and center on destiny’s stage. She was going to save the world, all thanks to Agnes’ endless wisdom and prophecies. As a child, she couldn’t wait. Sure, it was the end of the world, but it was also Anathema’s big moment. Her time to write her own name in the stars.

Then, the end of the world finally came.

And Anathema’s big, shining spotlight moment was all of twenty minutes in a tornado with a man she had barely met that day before _he_ ended up being the one to shut down thousands of nuclear warheads all thanks to his horrible luck with computers.

Anathema watched as monsters born of humanity’s own faults burned away from the Earth at the touch of sword from a handful of spunky kids. She watched as representatives of Heaven and Hell came to yell at their insubordinate employees and the little boy who had come to her home to read her conspiracy theory magazines. She watched as Lucifer himself erupted from the ground, furious and fiery, ready to destroy them all, only to be stopped by that eleven-year-old boy who disowned his own satanic father.

And as quickly as it came, Armageddon was over. The thing that Anathema had her _entire_ life built around, done in an instant. No grand battles, no final fight, no.. nothing. 

Nothing for her, at least. Aziraphale and Crowley told her about their brief attempted execution. She was glad the two of them were safe, of course, but hearing how it was thanks to one last ditch prophecy by Agnes Nutter made her mouth taste sour. 

Burning the second book was somewhat cathartic. As Anathema watched the pages smolder, she felt a wave of peace go over her. This was it. No more meddling from Agnes, no more dumb prophecies, no more half-involved attempts at saving the world. Now she had the freedom to make her own choices. To just be Anathema.

The only problem with that plan is she didn’t really know who Anathema really _was_. Sure, the clear answer was herself, duh, but really? What did she do now that she had no strings attached to a prophetess from hundreds of years ago telling her how to run her life? She wasn’t sure. She never had to think on her own for a lot of decisions because Agnes had told her about most of the important ones.

And so for what felt like an eternity, Anathema would spend each slowly passing day in Jasmine Cottage thinking. Thinking, and cooking, and crafting spells, but mostly thinking. Wondering exactly what she was to do now.

———

“Do Ouijas actually work?” The question came from her lips abruptly during tea with one Anthony J Crowley. She didn’t dare meet his eyes, lest he see her intent behind them.

“Ouija boards?” He repeated. “...S’pose, in a way they did. Really was a slip in Hell’s security more than anything.” He set down his cup. “No one expected humans to get good enough at magic to actively hear the spirits loud and clear. Before that it was all.. messages written in codes and the wind announcing they were there. But they fixed that, now they’re just toys.”

“So, there’s no way to speak to the spirits anymore?” Anathema’s question had a thin coating of disappointment to it.

“Never said that.” Crowley watched her eyes turn back up to look at him, hopeful. He had a slight suspicion he knew what the witch was playing at. “There’s ways, sure, but it’s a long process. And you’d need some demonic intervention.”

“...Crowley, do you think..” She muttered the rest of her question under her breath. 

“Sorry, what was that?” He said. “Couldn’t hear you.”

“...You know what I said.” She didn’t want to repeat herself.

“Anathema-“

“If you don’t wanna help me that’s ok, but I need this.” She said. “I need.. real closure.” Crowley sat in silence for more than half a moment before shaking his head and taking off his glasses.

“You humans and your stubborn ass whims.” He said. “Alright, I’ll help.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, book girl.” He said, sliding the glasses back on.

———

It would be almost two months before they had finished the summoning circle and appropriate spell prepping. It took a-long-while to get enough herbs that had not only been enchanted but also dried over hellfire along with rare crystals washed in new moon water. It was torture waiting. 

Anathema paced around as Crowley set the final stones in their place. It was finally happening.

“It’s time.” He said as Anathema walked up beside him. “I have to light the circle but it’s up to you to get her out here. Think you can do it, Ana?”

“I know I can.” Anathema nodded. Crowley nodded back, a reassuring smile on his lips.

“Let’s do it then.” Crowley said, flicking his fingers, letting sparks of hellfire fly. He leaned down and lit the edge of a large circle of brimstones, the fire catching quickly and spreading to encompass the rest of it before he stepped back. “Now!”

Anathema stepped forward, shut her eyes, and started to recite an ancient chant. You couldn’t really tell what language it was in over the roar of the fire, but it was probably Latin. The Latins and their ridiculous fascination with demonic entities had been one of Crowley’s ideas, if only by accident. He was really keen on complaining about office work when drunk, and he spent most of the early days drunk. 

The flames turned from bleeding reds and oranges to a cold blue, with the smallest peaks of purple and ivory whites finding their way in, and they only grew larger. Had this not been magical fire, Crowley was sure it would’ve caught the whole field ablaze.

“Almost there!” He shouted, barely sure if Anathema could even hear him.

Anathema felt the winds erupting from the circle push against her, but she dug her heels deep in the ground so as to not fall over. She had to finish this.

After what felt like both an eternity and the blink of an eye, the flames receded, staying only about an inch high in their circle, but now they were a funny shade of green. A familiar shade of green, really.

“Anathema,” An unfamiliar voice spoke as Anathema opened her eyes. Standing there before her was the ghostly figure of an old woman who wore a long, brown dress with white, lace sleeves. The edges of which, along with the hem of the dress, were burned slightly. Anathema, though she had never seen her before, knew exactly who she was. “It’s nice to see you, my dearest descendant.”

“Agnes..” Anathema muttered. “You’re really here.”

“As here as the dead can be, pet.” Agnes smiled at her in a way that was meant to be warm, but only made Anathema’s skin crawl. She peaked around Anathema’s shoulder. “Ah, and hello to you too, Serpent.” 

Crowley only waved.

“I expected this day to come.” Agnes said as she looked back at Anathema.

“You did?” She asked.

“Of course.” She chuckled “Human curiosity and all. You have questions for me, don’t you?” 

“Agnes, I-“

“This is so very exciting, don’t you think?” Agnes clasped her hands together cheerfully. “I mean, look at you. You are exactly like how I knew you’d be. Not that I could be wrong, of course, that was kind of the whole point.” Agnes’s glee only made Anathema’s stomach turn. This wasn’t supposed to be like tea time!

“Could you just-“

“So, what's first? Clarifications on some of my prophecies? The weird little spelling choices that drove your great-aunt Lana wild? Don’t think I haven’t stayed up to date with the family line. I wanted to know everything I can about my descendants.” 

“That’s the problem!” Anathema shouted, her voice strained. Agnes’s hands fell as she watched Anathema sniffle slightly. “How come you never met me, and yet you knew everything about me?” She demanded, tears welling up from behind her glasses. “ _I didn’t even get to learn everything about me!”_

“Anathema-“

“You ruined my life! All your prophecies were shoved onto me the moment I could breathe!” She said. “Everyone made me think I was going to be this- this- this grand hero or something! Little Anathema was going to save the world, everyone was _so_ proud! And now look at me, all I _did_ do during Armageddon was a computer nerd in a tornado!”

Crowley frowned as she started to break down. He stepped closer, placing his hand on her shoulder and trying to comfort her. Agnes only stood there, her smile gone. 

“You name-dropping me in your _stupid_ book ruined any chance I had at being normal. Or at the very least not being emotionally stunted and with a huge case of imposter syndrome!” Anathema took off her glasses and wiped her eyes but it didn’t stop the tears still flowing. “And now that it’s over, I’m just Anathema. And I don’t know how to be _just_ Anathema. All I've ever been was Anathema, the golden descendant of Agnes Nutter. So my question for you, Agnes Nutter, oh great prophetess,” Her words dripped with poison. “What do I do now, since you know _everything_?”

Agnes’s silence was deafening. All Anathema could hear was the sound of her own hitching breath. She covered her eyes with the palms of her hands, sobbing into them. She felt a pair of hands- Crowley’s, of course- go around her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.

“Ana..” He said quietly. He may have been a demon but he hated to see her like this. “We can stop the summons, if you want.”

“Wait, please, Serpent.” Agnes spoke up. “I suppose I owe her this much. I knew her whole life but I couldn’t imagine what it would do to her..”

“Really? Never crossed your mind?” Crowley retorted, his own bit of annoyance with the deceased seeping through.

“Anathema..” The witch in question looked up from her tear-stained hands and up at the woman who ruined her life. “I’m so sorry, my darling. I never meant this for you. I only was writing what I thought you all would need for.. well, the end.”

“Why not leave a warning for the family? Not to give your supposed favorite grandchild a crisis?” Anathema spat back bitterly.

“I knew how they’d raise you up, that’s true. But I.. I don’t know what I thought.” Agnes sighed. “I hoped you’d be happy with it, all that praise.”

“I was, at first.” She said. “But now? I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know who I want to _be_ now.”

“You can choose anything. Be yourself.”

“But- I never got the chance to grow into being myself because I was too busy trying to grow into being you!” Anathema groaned.

“Are you so sure?” Agnes said. “I mean, look at this. Where we are now.” She motioned to the still-burning circle. “I couldn’t have ever done this. Sure, I was well-versed in magic, but not like this.”

“This isn’t anything.” Anathema tried to argue, only to get a little nudge from her demon companion. “No offense, Crowley.”

“It definitely is not an Agnes Nutter idea, if that’s what you’re looking for.” Agnes said. “You are a witch, first and foremost. You took magic in your own image, and crafted it to your whim.”

“I.. suppose.” Anathema nodded.

“You have your own things, my dear, it’s right in front of you.” Agnes said.

“It was kinda hard to see. I equated everything about me.. to be about you.”

“I never wanted you to be _me_. I’m sorry, if I never made that clear to the others. All I wanted was for you to be ready. To feel special, for everything you’d have to deal with. I knew it would be a lot.”

“Well, the world’s still standing.” She said. “And.. I’ll keep going. Find my own way.”

“You can do anything you set your mind to, dearest. You’re Anathema Device, the most talented witch of her days.” Agnes smiled at her. Anathema, though she still felt the heaviness of her past on her shoulders, the load was a little lighter knowing Agnes’ intent.

“I guess this is goodbye then.” Anathema said.

“I guess it is.” Agnes nodded. “I’m so proud of you, Anathema. In everything you’ve done, and will do, I will be proud. Always know that.”

“I.. I will.” The wind blew stronger, snuffing out the green flames. 

As they turned to smoldering ash, Agnes’ image faded away. The last thing Anathema saw of her was the softness in her eyes and the hope in her smile.

“Are you ok?” Crowley asked. She nodded.

“I will be,” Anathema said. “I will be.”

Agnes’ spirit may have been far away, but Anathema knew from that day forward she didn’t live in anyone’s shadow. And it made this uncertain world a little easier to bear. No expectations, no pre-written story for her to follow, just the endless winding path of fate and her own will to guide her.

Anathema couldn’t have asked for more.


End file.
